


Without Him

by Bowties_are_Yellow



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Suicide, dead Dan, depressed phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 21:17:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7070719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowties_are_Yellow/pseuds/Bowties_are_Yellow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil being depressed and Dan not being there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Him

**Author's Note:**

> You'll probably notice, but I wrote this when I was sad...

I’m not sure what happened yesterday. I just know I have somehow made it to my bed in which I had just woken up.   
Of course I had been drinking yesterday evening. Not in a bar or anything like it, just in my apartment. I never bothered to go outside. Going outside would mean seeing people, walking into people who would just talk about him and meeting people. I didn’t deserve to see new people. He couldn’t either, so what gave me the right?  
My friends stopped coming to my apartment a few months ago. I had made it clear that they weren’t welcome anymore. They were just standing in the way. Saying I should get over it. Telling me they missed my smile, while they didn’t have the right to tell me they missed something. I did.   
And now I was just laying here in bed with a massive headache. I was definitely hung over, but when wasn’t I? The heating wasn’t on, so I was shaking slightly as the cold air touched my skin. I could barely pay the bills anymore, but nobody cares anyway.   
My parents call me from time and my brother drops by now and then. He always tells me he will give me some money, so I can live like a ‘normal’ human being. I always refuse. But every month there is an envelope with money in my mailbox. I always know it’s him. But I never have the energy to send it back to him. That would mean leaving my apartment and there was no chance of me doing that.   
There is no point in getting out of bed. I’ll probably get out in a few hours when I am hungry, but for now my headache consumes me just fine here.   
My live has been like this for a year now. I am a train-wreck and there was no chance of fixing me now.   
My life used to be just fine. I worked as a producer for commercials and TV-shows. I had amazing life, financial stability and amazing friends. I used to be really social and spontaneous, believe it or not. I was engaged. We were planning our wedding already. We had both bought our suits. We had picked out the flowers. Invitations were sent to our guests. It would have been only 28 days before we would get married.   
That’s when it all went wrong really. That’s when I became like this. I think the universe just played the most stupid joke on me. Showing me what happiness feels like, just to crush all of my hopes and dreams afterwards.   
Although I deserved this, he didn’t. He was amazing. He worked in a clothing store in the centre of the city. He didn’t get paid a lot, but that didn’t matter, because it made him happy. He always picked out the most beautiful clothing items for me. He loved fashion. He was obsessed with it.   
On one of our first dates I took him to a fashion show. I didn’t even look at the models most of the time. I just looked at him. For me he was the most beautiful person in the room, especially with that passion in his eyes and his concentrated look.   
He used to give me fashion advice. Now I’m wearing the same plain white shirt I had been wearing for a week already. I only changed into a new one, because Martyn forced me to.   
You always hear these stories about cute couples who can’t be without their partner for more than an hour. Our relationship wasn’t really like that. Of course we were hopelessly in love with each other, but we had our privet lives. We both had our jobs and separate friends, although most of our friend group was shared. We had a healthy relationship as most people would call it. But I think I had it wrong. I didn’t really have a life without him in it.  
He wanted children, I wasn’t sure. It’s my fault he never got to get children.  
A tear started rolling down my cheek again. I really should stop overthinking this, every single day, but I can’t. It’s how I stop myself from going insane. Some people might question that, but I don’t care. It’s how I survive these days.  
Some days I pretend he’s just at work and he’ll be coming home at the end of day. And although I knew it wasn’t true, every time I started sobbing when the door hadn’t opened at 5.30pm.  
I was beyond broken. I was dying. If this is what it felt like for him, I’m actually glad I get to feel it too. It keeps me connected to him.  
The connection was broken a year ago, a small voice in my head tells me.   
More tears start falling.  
I take the phone that was on my bedside table. I quickly unlock it and start scrolling through my contacts. Most of the people on the list hadn’t spoken to me in months. Not that I could blame them. I scrolled to the ‘D’ and there he was. His name. I avoided his name as much as I could. It only brought back more memories. Not that it was possible for me to think even more about him.   
I tapped the green button on the screen and quickly held the device to my ear. I don’t know what I was doing. I had done this a few times before and just like all those times before, the lady told me the number didn’t exist. She confirmed the voice in my head. There was no connection left. He was gone and I am stuck in this apartment.   
“Phil?”   
“Yeah?”  
He walked up to me while I was working on one of my latest projects. I turned my head to look at him. He was smiling at me and holding two cups. “Here,” he said, as he handed me one of the cups. Of course it had coffee in it. He knew I was addicted to coffee.   
“Thanks.” I took his hand and planted a kiss on his knuckles. He sat down on my lap.   
“I think you deserve a little break, future-husband.” He brought his face closer to mine and stared at my lips, the smile was still on his face. He closed the distance between us and kissed me. It was gentle kiss, only a little bit of tongue was involved. It was mostly just lips.  
“What do you wanna eat for dinner?” He asks after leaving my lips.  
“I could do with some Italian food,” I tell him.  
“I’ll cook us some pasta. But first I’ll need to go buy the ingredients.”  
“I could come with you,” I say, but it sounds more like a question.  
“Nope, you need to work on this project of yours.”  
Another flashback.  
The first few months I constantly had them. These days it’s only once a week.  
This was one of my least favourites. It was the day he died.   
I remember the entire day.   
It was a Sunday. Usually we would spend the day together. We would watch some movies and criticize them. Or we would simply stay in bed and cuddle until one of us needed to pee or drink or eat. But that specific Sunday we only stayed in bed for half an hour. I had work to do and he was probably spending his time on the internet, reblogging gifs of the latest fashion shows.   
It was peaceful really. I was in the early stages of my project so it wasn’t as stressful. He brought me coffee and water and made me lunch. It was a sandwich with ham, lettuce, tomato and cucumber. No cheese, he knew I hate that.   
He would give me kisses every now and then. Mostly on my cheek. I was too caught up in my work to respond most of the time. I was always so focused when I was working on a new project. He never minded, he once told me he really liked my concentrated face. He thought it was cute.   
I wish I had spent more time focussing on him that day. I could still picture that last kiss and the look in his eyes. He was so happy. So naïve.   
I remember getting a call from the police. He was stabbed in an alley on his way to the store.  
It had happened only a few minutes after I offered to come with him. He had refused and was stabbed afterwards.   
They had never caught the person who did it. There was not enough proof they told me. Someone stabbed my boyfriend and got away with it.   
I don’t even know why they had done it. He still had his money in his pocket when they found him.   
I couldn’t believe it at first. Of course I was worried already, because he had been gone for a longer amount of time that he usually was. I had thought it was nothing bad, though. I assumed he had just run into a friend and took forever to talk to them. He was always the most social of the two of us. And look what was left of me now. I don’t have social life at all. Just my brother and he was more like my caretaker.  
I feel like this was doomed to happen to me one day. Some people aren’t born to live a happy life. Some people aren’t born to live at all. Because look at me, you could barely call this living. I was dying.   
Maybe that’s what I’ve been hoping for all along. To die. To be with him. To see him again. I only have these stupid pictures of him. I would always take pictures of him. Some he never noticed me taking. On others I had made him pose.   
My life didn’t have purpose. I was only bothering everybody. Martyn hates taking care of me. He’s never told me, but I just know. My parents stopped calling me. My friends stopped comforting me. The world is moving on and I’m stuck. I’m holding them back.   
They would be better off without me. I won’t get out of bed today. The curtains stay closed. The light stays out.   
All I wanted for the past year was for him to come back, but maybe what I’ve been needing is to be with him. To move on.   
I reach out to my bedside table. I take the small bottle in my hand. I wasn’t able to sleep without the pills that were inside of it. It’s just what I need, sleep.   
I slowly open it and let the pills fall down on the palm of my hand. I didn’t count the amount. There was no need. I know it will be enough. I take them into my mouth and swallow them dry. I was used to swallowing the pills by now.  
I drop the bottle on the floor and lay down on my back. The white ceiling seems to be staring back at me. It makes me feel uncomfortable, so I close my eyes.   
People say that your life flashes in front of your eyes before you die. But I only saw him. Different memories, but he was definitely in all of them. In a way it seems fitting. He was my life after all.  
Soon we would be reunited. I would be finally with him.   
Just wait for me, Dan.


End file.
